You stupid bastard.
You told me you'd make me a king, and you showed me my kingdom. What is it now? Wasted and barren. Worthless. Just like me. Just like you.
We're so god damn similar. You always said so, but you didn't even get it. Empty words. You didn't mean it that way. But it's true. Grasping, high-handed, over-bearing, tempestuous fragments of human nature. We're on the path of evolution, and you and me, we've got a long way to go. It doesn't matter now, I guess. You're in some better place. Or somewhere worse. I can't say I'm sorry for you. If you're in hell, than so am I. So we're equal.
"I'll make you everything I was." What does that mean, father? You'd make me a fool? I liar? Weak? Stupid? Worthless, worthless, I was never good enough. Never good enough for the self-styled man of the hour, the king of the world, the world you left for me. What do you think of me, now, eh? Good enough yet? Better. "I'll make you everything I was." Well, I'm everything you weren't, now. Everything you couldn't be.
I used to hear mother cry, I listened. You thought I didn't care, like you. You thought I could just look at it, and see it, the way you did. Why did you want me to be like you? Why did you want me to follow in your footsteps? Couldn't you see that you were in decay? Molding over like week-old bread left on the table.
I listened. I listened to her cry, I listened to me cry, and I knew, I knew, I knew. I promised myself I'd never be like that. I'd make this world a better place. I'd make this world what I'd always wanted it to be, so far away from you and your money and your pre-dug grave, the one you dug when you put your name on that piece of paper, Shinra, the king of the world. King of the dust, King of the mud.
I promised myself I'd never be that way.
Like you wanted me to be.
Like you.
So what am I doing here, father? Dad? ...Daddy?
What have I done wrong? I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to follow in your footsteps. I'm not supposed to have this gun in my hand, am I? But isn't that the only way out?
Why don't you tell me, father? Maybe I'll even listen, this time.
You told me you'd make me a king, and you showed me my kingdom. What is it now? Wasted and barren. Worthless. Just like me. Just like you.
We're so god damn similar. You always said so, but you didn't even get it. Empty words. You didn't mean it that way. But it's true. Grasping, high-handed, over-bearing, tempestuous fragments of human nature. We're on the path of evolution, and you and me, we've got a long way to go. It doesn't matter now, I guess. You're in some better place. Or somewhere worse. I can't say I'm sorry for you. If you're in hell, than so am I. So we're equal.
"I'll make you everything I was." What does that mean, father? You'd make me a fool? I liar? Weak? Stupid? Worthless, worthless, I was never good enough. Never good enough for the self-styled man of the hour, the king of the world, the world you left for me. What do you think of me, now, eh? Good enough yet? Better. "I'll make you everything I was." Well, I'm everything you weren't, now. Everything you couldn't be.
I used to hear mother cry, I listened. You thought I didn't care, like you. You thought I could just look at it, and see it, the way you did. Why did you want me to be like you? Why did you want me to follow in your footsteps? Couldn't you see that you were in decay? Molding over like week-old bread left on the table.
I listened. I listened to her cry, I listened to me cry, and I knew, I knew, I knew. I promised myself I'd never be like that. I'd make this world a better place. I'd make this world what I'd always wanted it to be, so far away from you and your money and your pre-dug grave, the one you dug when you put your name on that piece of paper, Shinra, the king of the world. King of the dust, King of the mud.
I promised myself I'd never be that way.
Like you wanted me to be.
Like you.
So what am I doing here, father? Dad? ...Daddy?
What have I done wrong? I wasn't supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to follow in your footsteps. I'm not supposed to have this gun in my hand, am I? But isn't that the only way out?
Why don't you tell me, father? Maybe I'll even listen, this time.